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“I know dick about the management and entertainment stuff. And even less about country music,” he says, his voice hoarse with emotion. “My only concern is the keeping-Shelby-safe side of the business.”
What did I do to deserve this man?
He rolls over and checks his phone, growling before tossing it back on the nightstand.
“Is Greg looking for me?” I ask.
“Are you up to rehearsal?” he counters, indirectly answering my suspicion. “Be honest.”
“I don’t know.” I shrug, feeling prickly all over. “Normally, I wake up with music or notes floating around in my head. Ideas I can’t wait to write down or try out…Even when I’m tired or nervous, I’m usually excited to go to practice.”
“And?”
“It’s been so…quiet. Inside.” I tap my chest. “I feel a whole lot of nothing. Whatever magic propels me to create has vanished. I’m scared it’s gone for good.” I finish on a whisper, terrified to confess my growing fear. “And it’ll never come back.”
“Come here.” He hugs me against his body. “A lot has happened in a short amount of time. You need to recover. It’ll return when you’re ready.”
“But I don’t have time to wallow. Dawson’s gotta be losing a fortune canceling those dates.”
“He didn’t just cancel because of you. The fire on the bus was worse than I realized. Two of his people got injured too, so—”
“Jeepers.” I frown at him. “Anything else I don’t know?”
“I found that out myself last night.” He holds up his hands. “Don’t feel pressured to get back to it if you’re not ready.”
“Yeah, but his bus got ruined because of me. His crew got hurt because of me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he kicks me off the dang tour for bringing so much trouble.”
“Uh, I blame Martin Suggs, Glenna Wilson, and the lack of proper security at the venue for the fire. And I’m pretty sure Dawson feels the same way.” His expression turns feral. “And if he doesn’t, I’m happy to persuade him.”
“Easy, killer.”
He grins at me.
A little laughter bubbles up.
“That’s better.” He leans in and kisses the tip of my nose.
“You know what?” I slap the comforter with my open palm. “I would like to go to rehearsal. Even if I just sit there like a stump.”
“That’s my girl.”
I throw back the covers and roll out of bed, then waddle my way to the bathroom. “Be right back.”
Everything hurts but I take care of my morning business and almost feel human after brushing my teeth.
Rooster’s sitting on the edge of the bed when I return.
“My mom’s planning to fly back to Texas this afternoon, right?”
He sets his phone down and glances at me. “That’s what she said. You want to have some mother-daughter bonding time?” he asks. “Just the two of you?”
“Uh, no.” I rest my hands on my hips. “She needs to accept you in my life. End of story.”
He stands, closes the distance between us, and cups my cheeks with his big hands. “I love you for saying that. I do. But she’s coming around.” His mouth twitches into a smile. “Slowly. I’m gonna see you every day for the next few weeks. You two should spend some time together without me in the way.”
“You’re not in the way. Don’t say that.”
His lips twitch. “I need to take care of a few things. But I’ll be back in time to go to the airport with you. How’s that?”
“Better.” I wrap my arms around him, hugging tight and not letting go.
Things will get better, right? I survived something awful but this bad mood has its teeth in me. I can’t stop thinking if it hadn’t been for Rooster’s relentless determination to find me, I might still be at the mercy of Suggs. Gratitude should color my every thought—and it does, to an extent.
Fear, anger, and anxiety won’t quit crawling around inside me though either.
Chapter Twenty
Shelby
Once we’re both dressed, Rooster leads me a few doors down from our room and knocks.
My mom opens the door wide and wraps me in a big, warm hug. “How you feelin’ this morning, baby?”
“A lot better.” At least that’s mostly true.
She grabs her purse and follows me to the elevator.
“You know where we’re going?” I ask Rooster as he punches the ‘down’ button.
“Rehearsal’s the same room we had dinner in last night,” my mom says.
“Glad someone has a clue.” I laugh and shake my head. Get it together, Shelby.
The hotel’s quiet at this hour. We don’t pass many people, but the few we see offer warm greetings.
Now that Rooster’s told me my story’s been all over the news, I’m twitchy if anyone looks at me for longer than two seconds.
I blow out a sigh of relief when we arrive downstairs.
“Dawson said the hotel was in between events this week, and that’s how he was able to get the conference rooms on this floor reserved,” my mother says. “Otherwise, y’all woulda been SOL.”
